


I Name You My Child

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Adoption, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mando is a Good Dad, Mando'a, Mando'a culture, but not really i just needed fluff, my guess of what happens in ep 8, post-Episode 7, ship wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Dyn finds him again.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 387





	I Name You My Child

**Author's Note:**

> hahahahahahahahaha hahahahahaha episode 7 was GREAT wasn't it guys 
> 
> just so amazing
> 
> i'm lying to you and myself i'm so upset how dare they do that
> 
> i want this to happen next ep, but i really just wrote this cause i was sad 
> 
> gib more ideas if you want more fics from me tho skenakenejwke

Dyn’s heart was racing, and he was breathing heavily through his mask. The air around him was filled with deep, black smoke, but he couldn't care less as he rummaged through the wreckage of the TIE fighter, his veins burning with terrifying concern. 

He hadn't meant for the TIE to come down in his attempts to get in. He hadn't thought that this Moff or whoever the hell he was would crash his ship instead of face the pissed off Manadlorian. Then again, he had sent a pulse of electricity through the man, unable to stop himself, and before he knew it, the man was slumped over and the TIE was crashing. So technically it wasn't the man’s fault. 

But it was, really, since he'd dared to take Dyn’s child. 

There was movement not too far off, and he grabs his blaster, aiming it at the shifting metal, ready to shoot the man straight into hell. But then a large, green ear breaks free of the wreckage, followed by two dark eyes and a wrinkled forehead. His breath, which he hadn't even realized he was holding, is released at the sight of the child’s face, and he places the gun back in its holster as the child cooes loudly at the sight of him. 

“D!” the child exclaimed, and he climbs from underneath the rubble, tiny feet slapping against the metal as he began to waddle towards the Mandalorian, who was taking long strides to meet him halfway. Tiny hands are held up over a much larger head, making grabbing motions as a few tears managed to slip their way out of the two dark orbs. “Dada!” 

The unexpected word from the child was nearly enough to make Dyn stop in his tracks and sob in joy. But he couldn't stop now, not after nearly losing his kid, and so he finally reaches the kid and scoops him into his arms. Small claws begin to drag on his helmet, just below the visor, as the child continues to babble, “Dada! Dada!” 

“Yes, ad’ika,” Dyn murmured, and holds the child close to his chest. The child continues to say the word, his small frame shaking from the day’s hectic activities. And, if he were being honest, then Dyn would admit that he too was still shaking a tad bit. His heart was still hammering against his chest, and he was only now finally breathing easily again with the child cradled in his arms. “I've got you. I won't let you go again.” 

He glanced around then, checking for anyone nearby. The man form the TIE fighter must have perished in the crash- good, even though Dyn sort of wished he could have given him a slower death- and he did not see anyone else around. The others were back at the ship, Cara tending to Kuiil and the droid defending it from the outside. The troopers had already been dealt with, and the civilians and hunters of this world were hiding away in their homes. 

Now would be the perfect time. And he felt it was the right time, too. 

“Ad’ika,” he said, and the child cooed again, ears perking. Dyn reaches a hand up and wipes one of the stray tears from his green skin fondly, and bounces him. The child giggles now, tears disappearing from his eyes. Good. He draws a deep, steadying breath through his nose and gathers the words in his heart. “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad.” 

“I know your name as my child”, the Mando’a adoption vow. 

And he'd just said it, even though he never thought he would. 

The words flowed easily off of his tongue, even though he was terrified, scared. But he knew in his heart that he was ready, willing, and hopeful in claiming the child as his own. It felt right, like he was meant to be his kid and he the father. 

The child smiles up at him, almost as though he could understand the words. Dyn crouches, carefully setting the child down, and then, checking one more time around them, reaches for his helmet. Staying low, he removes the helmet with only slight hesitation, before meeting the child’s eyes and drawing up his determination. 

He sets it the side, the air of the planet hits the sides of his face, gets dust in his eyes, messes with his sweat stained hair. The strands had curled due to the sweat, making it a dark mess atop his head. The child continues to coo, and waddles forward, ears held high, eyes filled with his curiosity. 

Dyn has finished the vow, sealed it. The child was now his own. 

But then, the child is cooing in distress, his large ears lowered as he looked to the helmet. He toddled over to it, away from Dyn, and pats the beskar metal. There are dull thumps and the child trills, turning back to look at him, that curiosity now replaced with distress. 

“Ad’ika?” Dyn said, tilting his head. The child’s ears lift at his voice, and he coos again, eyes scrunching as confusion fills his expression. He pats the helmet again, and then looks at Dyn, a deep frown on his features. 

Ah. That's it. Dyn chuckles, the stress from the day’s events finally fully leaving his shoulders, his back, his entire being. The child was confused because he had never seen him without his helmet. He probably assumed that that was Dyn’s true face- all metal and no emotions to be seen, only heard or implied. He reaches a hand out, that the child stares at. His ears were still held high, as though listening for Dyn's voice. 

“It is me, ad’ika,” he said fondly. The child tilts his head, blinking slowly, one hand still on the helmet’s edge. “I know I look different. But it is me.” 

The child continues to stare, and then seems to decide on something. He starts to babble, and waddles towards Dyn, hands up once more, “Dada?” Dyn chokes on a sob, mode emotional than he'd realized. 

“Yes, Dada,” he said, and scoops the child into his arms once more, allows his hands to trace the lines of his cheeks and nose. Allows the tiny hands to pat on his chin, for large orbs to stare into his eyes deeply. “I am your dada.” 

He couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> cries


End file.
